Connection
by bluestar28
Summary: When it is almost unbearable to be alone anymore....MS. An insight into what could be. chapter 5 is up!
1. Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they are all part of the wonder that is Without a Trace. Also, this is my first fic, so be kind(  
  
It had become comfortable; their tradition of sorts. Once or twice a week, after a hard day at work, they would be the last two at the office together. Jack, Vivian, and Danny would say their goodbyes and head home, leaving them at their desks, backs to each other while they finished their work in silence.  
  
It was often Martin who made the first move; walking over sit on her desk while she pretended not to notice. "Almost ready", she would say while she continued to furiously scribble on various documents. Then she would put down her pen, pause for an instant, and then look at him expectantly.  
  
"Samantha, would you like to get a drink?"  
  
They would always go to the same bar around the corner. It was classy and quiet, and the bartender knew them as the 'regulars'. Sometimes they talked all night long, and other times they spent the hours in relaxed silence. Then they would say goodnight and take separate cabs to their apartments on opposite sides of the city.  
  
In those late nights, they got to know each other. They became more than just associates at work, they became friends. Good friends. They were at ease with each other, and slowly but surely they each started to break their emotional walls down.  
  
But this time was different.  
  
This time Samantha made the first move. She cleaned the stacks of papers and folders on her desk, stood up, pushed her chair in, and walked slowly over to his desk. Martin was turned in his chair, his left arm leaning against his desk. His eyes were blank and he was staring unblinking at the picture in his hand. Samantha knew he had an affecting day. Martin had been quiet and distant ever since finding the young girl, bound and gagged with her ear sliced off. He refused to discuss how it led to the shooting of her captor, and the team had been respectful of his emotional state. Samantha knew there was more to the story, but she hesitated. She didn't want him to push her away. But he had been there when she was hurting. When she was struggling with coming back to work after her shooting, he had taken her out, making her laugh and forget her problems. He persisted when she backed off, and that gesture did not go unnoticed by Samantha. She was eager at this opportunity to repay him for standing with her at her most vulnerable time.  
  
She leaned nonchalantly against his desk, wrapping her arms around her waist as she paused for a moment until he noticed her presence. His expression remained stoic as he glanced in her general direction. She made a few off-hand comments, trying to draw his attention away from the misery of his experiences during the day. She wasn't quite sure how to approach the situation, so she just made the decision to dive right in.  
  
"Look, Martin, do want to go get.."  
  
No sooner had she started the invitation that Martin countered. "I...have to stay and finish up some paperwork, so I don't really think that is going to work out for tonight". He had barely looked at her.  
  
Samantha was caught a bit off guard. She looked at him intently for a few seconds before she looked uncomfortably down at her hands. She smiled quickly at him, making it seem as though his response didn't upset her. Martin avoided her eyes for fear that she would persist. She paused for another instant, and whispered a swift "Okay". She pushed herself off of his desk, tossed her hair over her shoulder, stood up straight, and walked away. She walked over to her own desk, reached over the back of the chair to pick up her jacket, and swung it over her shoulders, heading for the elevator without looking back.  
  
Martin instantly regretted it. He had hurt her, he could see that. The wounded expression had flashed across her dark eyes for only an instant. If he had not known her, he would have easily dismissed it. It was only there for an instant, and was quickly covered by a tight smile. She was too strong to ever let him believe that he had upset her. Samantha Spade was no damsel in distress. He didn't have any paperwork to do; he just thought he wanted to be alone.  
  
He watched her the entire way as she walked toward the elevator. He could not manage to tear his eyes away from her. Martin found himself wishing that she had pushed a little bit harder, wishing that she would have insisted on taking him for a drink. He wanted to watch her absently twirl the ends of her hair around her index finger; he wanted to listen to her talk about nothing, but most of all, he just wanted to be in her presence.  
  
Samantha sighed deeply as she walked away, knowing that yet again she would be going home to an empty apartment. She had realized in that instant how she had come to rely on Martin; how she had subconsciously looked forward to the nights that they would spend together, even if it was only in a booth in the corner of their little tavern. Their friendship had grown immeasurably in those nights, and just being in his presence took her mind away from the horrors of human nature that they were privy to on a daily basis. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be anything that she could do about that tonight, so she pushed the DOWN button on the elevator, shoved her hands deep into the pockets on her overcoat, and leaned against the wall as she waited.  
  
The instant he watched Samantha get on the elevator, his heart dropped. He still hoped that she would turn around, flash a mega-watt smile in his direction, and persist until he changed his mind. He wasn't comfortable parting with her on uncertain terms. Their friendship had never permeated their working relationship, other than the subtle ability to know what the other was thinking by a simple expression or body movement. He did not want it to become awkward between them. He wouldn't dare tell her that her mere presence made him want to smile. Working cases with her, throwing around ideas, finally putting the last piece in an impossible puzzle; these were the reasons that he could stomach the work that they did. When he was talking to her, she often distracted him so much that he lost track of what he had been saying. He would always try pretend that he had just remembered something else that he was supposed to be doing, a pathetic attempt to cover for the fact that he was completely enamored by the woman sitting with him. He knew Samantha would never look at him in the same way, especially in light of her intimate relationship with Jack. But what could he say, he like to torture himself that way.  
  
He didn't think he could sleep with the knowledge that she might be upset. Martin was never one to let the sun go down without making amends. He threw the picture down on his already cluttered desk and jumped out of his chair with new energy. He threw his jacket over his forearm and headed toward the elevator. He was going to make a little surprise visit to his favorite Special Agent.  
  
Samantha put the key into the lock on the door of her apartment. She was a little bit confused by Martin's behavior, unsure of why he quickly dismissed her tonight. She leaned her forehead against the door frame and took a deep breath. Alone, she thought. After her injury and all of the time she spent in the hospital, she had realized how hollow her life was. Work was all she had. Work made her who she was. She had no friends outside of the Bureau, barely any family to speak of, and she hadn't had the companionship of a man in longer than she could remember. Jack didn't count. He was already taken. Looking back on that experience, she realized that she deserved better, at least she hoped she did. She wanted more than dinner in the shadows, followed by a torrid romance in a hidden hotel room. They had never even spent an entire night together. She wanted someone to wrap their arms around her and whisper in her ear until she fell asleep. She would never have that with Jack. They never really talked, at least not the way that she could talk to Martin. She had a real connection with him, a deeper connection. They understood each other, and there was a distinct mutual respect. She wouldn't dare tell him that recently she began to get little butterflies in her stomach the instant he would enter the room. She just chalked it up to being lonely, just wanting companionship.  
  
She heard the crash of a pot hitting the floor in the apartment across the hall, and came to the realization that she was still standing in the hallway, key still firmly in the lock. Shaken out of her reverie, Samantha turned the key and pushed the door open with the palm of her hand. She threw her overcoat on the back of a black leather chair, and immediately went to her bedroom for a change of clothes. A worn pair of jeans and white t-shirt did the job perfectly. A microwaveable meal sat in the freezer calling her name, but she couldn't stop thinking about Martin. No, she thought, I'm not letting this bother me. I just need a good sleep, and everything will be fine in the morning. It was then that she heard a knock at the door.  
  
She couldn't imagine who would be here this late at night. She unlocked the latch and opened the door wide, revealing Martin, hands firmly planted in his pockets.  
  
Martin caught his breath at the initial sight of her. He rarely had the chance to see her out of her work cloths, and she was stunning. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, which rested easily over her left shoulder. She was wearing a fitted white shirt and a pair of jeans with holes worn into the knees.  
  
Samantha was taken aback at first. She didn't even realize that Martin knew where she lived. After the initial shock, Samantha forced a smile onto her face and moved aside to let him in. Martin walked quickly past her, taking off his jacket at the same time. He threw it on the arm of the black leather chair next to her own jacket. He made his way into the living room of her apartment and sat down. By this time she had closed and locked the door. She crossed her arms and turned to face him, a questioning look in her eye.  
  
"Hi, how's it going?" he said flippantly, unsure of how to begin his apology. She walked toward him slowly and sat across from him on the other chair. She still hadn't uttered a word since he entered the apartment.  
  
"Look," Martin started, "I just want to say that I was sorry. I didn't mean to be short with you today. I just wanted to make sure that we were...you know, alright".  
  
The last part came out in a rush, and when he was finished, Martin sat back on the couch, crossed his arms, and waited for a response.  
  
Samantha was watching Martin intently as he spoke. He looked down and motioned with his hands extensively as he voiced his concern. She would have smiled if it weren't for the serious nature of the conversation. She thought for a minute before she responded.  
  
"Okay". She finally allowed a smile to spread across her face.  
  
Martin's expression showed only a touch of surprise at how easily she was convinced, but the relief was obvious on his face.  
  
"Good, good, good." Martin said, unsure of how to proceed. He clasped his hands together, offered her a smile, and stood up to leave. "I just wanted to make sure, that's all".  
  
Martin picked up his jacket again and started towards the door. Samantha jumped up from her chair and grabbed his wrist just as he began to unlock the latch.  
  
She stared intently into his eyes for just a second before she spoke.  
  
"Martin, please don't leave tonight. I don't want to be alone"  
  
Please review, I have another chapter ready to go, but I won't post it if people don't like this one. Be honest.. 


	2. Invitation

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters..wish I did. Thanks to all of you that reviewed the first chapter!  
  
An electric sensation shot up his arm the instant she reached for his wrist. Her grip was tight, and her eyes imploring. Her gaze did not leave his as Martin's inner turmoil raged. His heart screamed "yes", but his brain countered. He wanted nothing more than to be at the beck and call of this woman, but his more rational side argued against his first instinct. How could he spend a night with Samantha and not want more? How could he indulge her platonic invitation without allowing his emotions to take over?  
  
In the end, his heart beat out his mind. He nodded his head slowly, allowing the full implications of her request to set in.  
  
Samantha's expression visibly relaxed, and she loosened her grip on Martin's wrist. She let her fingers slide over his palm and grasp his hand completely. Almost as quickly as this happened, she pulled her hand away and placed it on her hip. She smiled a bit shyly and reached her other arm to take his coat. Martin slipped the overcoat back off of his shoulders and placed it into her extended palm.  
  
Martin glanced around Samantha's apartment with barely contained excitement, although still unsure what to make of the situation. He watched her as she reached into the coat closet next to the doorway and pulled out a hanger for his jacket. She placed the hanger under the shoulders of the jacket with care and replace it in the closet amongst her various blazers and overcoats.  
  
Samantha then walked toward the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder only to tell Martin that she was getting them both some wine.  
  
Martin made himself at home on her comfortable leather couch, leaning back into the cushions. He rested his right ankle over his left knee and crossed his hands over his stomach.  
  
Samantha came quickly out of the kitchen, wine flutes and merlot in hand. She placed one glass in front of Martin on the tabletop, and the other on the opposite side. She removed the cork of the previously opened bottle and filled both glasses a little bit too high with the crimson liquid. She sat down across from Martin, neither of them yet making an attempt to lift their glasses. They stared unwaveringly at each other for a time, before Martin finally broke the relaxed silence.  
  
Two hours and too many glasses of wine later, Samantha threw her head back and laughed a deep throaty laugh at the end of another classic childhood story told by Martin. Apparently he had stolen four doughnuts from the kitchen table and shoved them all in his mouth at the same time. No sooner had he downed the sugary treats than his father walked in, his shiny new shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. Martin then proceeded to throw up all over the patent leather, Boston Crème and all.  
  
When the laughter eventually subsided, Samantha looked at the clock apprehensively. It was 11pm and they had to be at work by 7am the next morning. They both knew that a good night's rest was important in maintaining their fragile sanity.  
  
Martin read her mind and stood up first, snatching the wine glasses and heading towards the kitchen. As he rinsed them in the sink, Samantha took the opportunity to gather her poise. She had to approach the situation cautiously, careful not to seem too forward. It wasn't that she hadn't been forward with men in the past, this was just.different.  
  
Martin reentered the living room, and they stood there facing each other, hands on their hips, neither one of them sure who should make the first move. Well, now or never, Samantha thought.  
  
"Martin, I'd prefer if you didn't sleep on the leather couch, and since I really do not have anywhere else for you to stay, you can just sleep in the bed with me. If that is alright with you, of course.."  
  
Martin's eyebrow shot up. Did she just say what he heard her say? Was she inviting him to sleep in the same bed with her? Oh Lord, give me strength ..  
  
"Oh sure, not a problem"  
  
He shrugged nonchalantly when he regained what little was left of his composure. He tried to keep the smile from creeping onto his face, but he failed miserably.  
  
Without another word, Samantha turned and headed for the bathroom to change, leaving Martin standing in the living room deciding what to do next. Samantha entered the bedroom and crossed the room to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, and as soon as the latch clicked, she leaned against the door and let out a colossal sigh of relief. Why had she been so nervous just then? They were simply colleagues and friends, obviously comfortable enough with each other to manage a night together.  
  
She smiled in spite of herself. It was so incredibly unlike her to ever feel nervous or unsure, especially around a man. But there was something else. Martin made her feel girly. The gun, the professional suits, the testosterone filled atmosphere at work; all were things that slowly whittled away at her ability to feel attractive. But he could still made her feel beautiful.  
  
It had something to do with the way he looked at her. She couldn't explain it, but when she caught him looking at her, looking into her eyes, she would very nearly flush with delight. He would watch her intently when she spoke, making her feel that she was the only person in the room. His smile was captivating. In their line of work, smiling was not an everyday occurrence, but somehow he managed to flash a grin in her direction every morning.  
  
Samantha marveled at what had happened over the course of the night. They both began the evening at emotional lows. Martin was coming to grips with the atrocities that he had witnessed that day, and Samantha was struggling with the understanding that her line of work might require her to be alone more often than not when she returned to her apartment.  
  
All was changed in only a few hours. At ease with each other, Martin had told story after story of his childhood. They had laughed for what seemed like hours, comfortably across from each other propped casually on her leather furniture. Before they knew it, the sadness of the day had passed them by, and talk of work was pushed far into the background. Samantha had never experienced anything quite like it before. Thoughts of her troubles were dashed nearly the instant that she had opened her door to Martin.  
  
Martin stood in the living room for a minute, watching her as she closed the ivory door to the bathroom. He still could not adequately process exactly what taken place just an instant ago. He could not believe that he was just invited to stay the night in the same apartment with the amazing woman that had just been in his presence. He was almost afraid that if he moved, the dream would dissolve and he would find himself back in his own apartment, nodding off in front of the evening news.  
  
But this was not a dream, and he had to be dressed to sleep when she came out of the bathroom.  
  
He removed the tie that he had loosened after his first glass of wine, and tossed it over the back of the couch that he was sitting on a moment ago. He unbuttoned his light blue shirt and removed it, revealing a thin white t- shirt. He then bent down to remove his shoes, proceeding to wiggle his black pressed pant over his ankles, leaving only his blue boxers.  
  
Well, he thought, this is going to have to do. He hoped Samantha was not uncomfortable with his clothing, or lack thereof, because he was surely unable to sleep contentedly in his work clothes.  
  
He placed the remainder of his garments with his tie on the back of the couch, and wandered to the doorway of Samantha's bedroom. He stood there, leaning his right shoulder against the frame. He looked around the room, taking it all in.  
  
The bathroom was directly in line with the doorway he was standing in. The bed was to the left, headboard flush against the wall and the foot of the bed projected out in Martin's direction. There was a large window on the wall behind the bed.  
  
There were no extravagant furnishings to speak of, only a dresser on the far wall and a modest table near the head of the bed with a lamp and alarm clock. There was a ceiling fan in the middle of the room, and the incandescent light cast a warm glow on the ivory walls and carpet.  
  
The bed itself was a sight. It was a large bed, a queen size, Martin guessed. The spread was black, of course, with no other decoration. There were three large ivory pillows propped against the headboard, and much to his surprise, there was a brown teddy bear nestled in the crease of one of the pillows. This was the only indication that an actual person lived in the room.  
  
Martin was almost saddened by the lack of color and decoration in the space. There were no pictures of friends anywhere in the apartment, and he made a mental note to try to change that in the near future.  
  
He didn't plan on moving over the threshold of the room until invited. Just at that moment, the bathroom door swung open and the light illuminated the figure standing there. Samantha stood there unmoving for a moment. She had taken her hair out of the ponytail, and it now streamed down over each of her shoulders. She had traded the white shirt and jeans for a navy blue tank top and light blue boxers. Martin was still gazing at her when she asked the inevitable question..  
  
"Right or left?"  
  
Ok, there you have it. Yes? No? Please please continue to review (good or bad) and I'll put up the next chapter in no time! 


	3. Asleep

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  
  
Thank you to everyone for the extremely nice reviews! Just enough motivation for me to keep plugging along!  
  
~~**~~**  
  
"I'm sorry??"  
  
Samantha laughed to herself when she realized that Martin had no idea what she was asking him. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and tried again.  
  
"The bed. What side do you usually sleep on?"  
  
Martin chuckled when he realized what her initial question had been. He wasn't quite sure why it took him so long to understand, although his mind had been elsewhere.  
  
"Left," he replied quickly in an effort to hide his embarrassment, "but it really doesn't matter at all."  
  
Samantha smiled and made a grand gesture with her right arm toward the left side of the bed. Martin worked his way over as she crossed in front of him on her way to the right side. She grabbed the teddy bear by the arm and squeezed it in between her left elbow and her waist, freeing both hands to clear the rest of the bed. She pulled back the black comforter, revealing the smooth black and white checkered sheets beneath. Martin and Samantha both gingerly slipped into the bed, each extremely aware of the other's presence.  
  
Martin rested on his back, his left arm curled up under his head, and his right hand comfortably settled on his abdomen.  
  
Samantha took a minute longer to situate herself. She placed the teddy bear between Martin and herself. She was beyond caring if he thought she was a bit childish for continuing to sleep with a stuffed animal. She first acquired Riggs in the 80's after nursing a brief crush on Mel Gibson during his Lethal Weapon days. This was back when she thought men with guns were mysterious and exciting. That was a long time ago, and now she was the one with the gun. After a while, she realized that maybe it wasn't quite as thrilling as it was cracked up to be. Still, she hardly ever went to sleep without Riggs, especially considering that he was all the overnight company she ever had. Samantha reached over to the nightstand and set the alarm clock for 6am, figuring that it would give them both plenty of time to shower and prepare for work. Then she reached up and switched off the light, leaving them in almost complete darkness. The only light came from the streetlights 8 floors below the window in the bedroom.  
  
With the lights out and Martin already settled in for the night's sleep, Samantha allowed herself to nestle into a comfortable position on her right side, facing away from Martin.  
  
Martin broke the silence with a quick, "Goodnight, Samantha."  
  
"Goodnight," she whispered over her shoulder.  
  
Samantha was still for a moment. It struck her as nearly amazing the way that Martin was willing to completely rearrange his plans for the entire night, instead choosing to share childhood stories and keep her company. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to hug him. Unfortunately, she would have to settle for a much more simple expression of gratitude.  
  
Samantha rolled over to her left side so she was facing Martin. She propped herself up on her elbow and took a breath. She angled her head upward and found herself staring directly into Martin's eyes. How tender they were. Her heart skipped a beat as she nearly forgot what her purpose was. She involuntarily reached over with her free hand and touched the arm that was resting over his stomach. She felt him tense slightly at her touch.  
  
"Thank you for staying with me tonight, Martin," Samantha whispered. She paused for a second to continue, but instead just repeated a simple, "Thank you".  
  
Martin's breath caught in his throat. In the reflection of the moon and streetlights, Samantha had the general appearance of a Greek goddess. She was breathtakingly beautiful with her golden hair spilling over her shoulder and resting easily on the pillow top. Her eyes were sincere, and her hand remained softly over his.  
  
"Anytime, Samantha, I mean that"  
  
They stared intently at one another for a few seconds before Samantha realized that her hand was still resting on Martin. She pulled it away quickly, almost too quickly to appear natural. She thought she caught a glimpse of Martin smiling as she turned over again.  
  
~~**~~**  
  
Martin didn't quite understand what was happening. Here he was, getting ready to fall asleep in the same bed with the woman he adored, yet he could not quite get up the nerve to share his feelings with her. Score one for the gutless, he thought. He only hoped he didn't get too comfortable with this feeling of closeness. He knew this was a brief moment of weakness for Samantha, but his heart couldn't handle it if she regretted it in the morning.  
  
~~**~~**  
  
When Samantha turned over, she smiled to herself. This was a first for her. She knew how to use her looks to catch a man. Love 'em and leave 'em were truths for her. She didn't ever care about them, and she didn't want to get close. She simply wanted the companionship. She could always get what she wanted and leave. But this situation was different. She cared about Martin. Truly cared for him. She enjoyed being in his presence. She noticed the little things about him, like the way his left ear stuck out a little bit more than his right, or how his teeth actually sparkled when they caught the light in a certain way, or even how fiercely he cared for and protected his friends. It made her almost giddy to think that Martin was staying with her, no sexual strings attached. She couldn't help but think that he was one of the good ones.  
  
Samantha drifted off to sleep wondering if they would ever get past being friends; wondering if he would ever be the one to fall asleep with.always.  
  
~~**~~**  
  
Samantha bolted awake at the first sound of the alarm. She smashed the SNOOZE button harder than she intended while her fingers fumbled for the OFF switch. She had been on her stomach, and as she began to push herself up and out of bed, she almost did a double take when she looked over and saw a body lying next to her. She let a smile creep onto her lips when the last night came back to her.  
  
Martin was left undisturbed by the imposing sound of the alarm clock. He was turned on his left side, facing away from her. His breath was still deep and even as Samantha took the opportunity to look him over.  
  
His white t-shirt was pulled taut over his back. Every muscle of his broad shoulders was visible through the thin material. His brown hair was mussed from a night of tossing and turning. The sheets were pulled up just under his ribs, hiding the rest of him under a mass of comforter and pillows.  
  
Samantha watched him breathe for a short while. She didn't have the heart to rouse him just yet, deciding instead to jump in the shower and wake him later.  
  
~~**~~**  
  
Martin awoke to the sound of water running in the bathroom. For an instant, he could not remember where he was. Then it all came back to him in a rush; the story telling, the invitation, the..sleeping. Well, almost sleeping.  
  
When Samantha had thanked him and rolled over, she had fallen asleep almost instantly. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. He had tried staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning, and even counting sheep. All the while he was trying to ignore the beautiful woman sleeping next to him. In the end, he gave in to the temptation and just watched her. At some point she had rolled onto her back. Her hair was splayed across the oversized pillow, and in her left arm she clutched the brown teddy bear he had seen earlier. She looked almost cherubic as she slept, and the strain and worry had disappeared from her face. Her long eyelashes curled upward where they touched just below her eyes, and her eyebrows fell into smooth straight lines. He almost felt like he was intruding as he gazed over her. Her breaths were a bit shallower, and he imagined that she was a light sleeper. Martin had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him. Unfortunately, he was afraid that he would scare her and she would break his arm out of reflex.  
  
In order to get any sleep, Martin realized that he would have to purposely turn his back on her, lest he find himself watching her instead. Despite his conscious effort, his senses were all on heightened alert, and he did not actually drift off to sleep until the early hour of 2:30am.  
  
~~**~~**  
  
Martin could smell the lavender scent of Samantha's shampoo diffusing into the bedroom. He looked over at the alarm clock, and was surprised to see that it read 6:15. He still had to get back to his apartment in time for a quick shower and change before work at 7. He jumped out of bed and retrieved his clothes from the back of the leather chair in the living room. He threw on his wrinkled pants and shirt, then crumpled his tie and shoved it in his pocket. He grabbed his overcoat from the closet by the front door, and proceeded to throw it over his shoulders. He was all ready to go, he just had to do one more thing before he left..  
  
~~**~~**  
  
Samantha leaned into the spray of water as it pelted her face and hair. She was not exactly looking forward to going to work today. It took more of an emotional toll on her around the holidays. Christmas was no exception. Cases just seemed more depressing at a time of year when everyone else was celebrating happily with their families. Mmm, family..  
  
Samantha jolted back to reality and found that she had been standing motionless in the stream of hot water for a couple of minutes. She still had to get Martin out of bed.  
  
Samantha turned the shower off and dried herself with a towel. She then threw on a navy blue robe and tied it tightly around her slender waist.  
  
When she opened the bathroom door and peer out into the bedroom, Martin was nowhere to be found. The bed was made, complete with Riggs sitting comfortably between the pillows. A small white piece of paper stood out against the black of the comforter. Samantha walked over and picked it up, laughing out loud as she read the note.  
  
"Thanks for last night.in a non-prostitute sense, of course"  
  
He had signed it with a giant smiley face.  
  
Keep the reviews coming! I love hearing what people think, whether it be good or bad. I just want to hear from as many people as possible! Let me know( 


	4. Jealousy

I'm sorry I haven't updated this in a while, but I just moved to DC to start grad school, and I haven't had the internet or the time until recently. This chapter is a bit.weird..but I just needed to put a little friction between the two of them, because it was getting too easy.  
  
Anyway, hope you enjoy!  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, as much as I wish I was best friends with ALL of them.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Two weeks had passed. Samantha and Martin had avoided each other except when absolutely necessary, both unsure as to how the other felt about the night they spent together. Martin was sure Samantha came to regret asking him to stay the night, and he tried to stay out of her way until she made the next move. Samantha thought the exact same thing about Martin. They each went the extra distance to steer clear of being partnered together during investigations.  
  
When Jack put the two of them together Samantha usually went to Danny, pretending to be deeply invested in a credit card background check, and asked him to partner with Martin. Samantha rarely asked Vivian, mostly because she knew Viv would have too many questions. She was also careful to do the switch out of earshot of Jack. Danny typically went along without any difficulty or questions, but it was starting to become inconvenient for him. He wasn't sure why Samantha was being so evasive, but he knew that when she was ready, she would tell him.  
  
Christmas was fast approaching, and the office was even more hectic than usual. Jack had also informed the team that they would be the recipients of a new member who would be with them for a few months until her transfer to the west coast. The building was also preparing for the massive party that would take place that night, right before Christmas Eve. It was an annual event, meant to distract everyone from the desperation of their jobs. It was not that people didn't go missing over Christmas, but even the 'Powers that Be' recognized that everyone needed some time before the holidays to simply enjoy each other's company; otherwise burnout was imminent.  
  
The team had worked hard for the past three days on a case involving 65 year old Olivia Harrison. Olivia had no real family or friends to speak of. She had disappeared from the middle of her retirement party. There were no witnesses, and it had been virtually impossible to put together a timeline involving her disappearance. Everyone put in extra hours, but in the end, Martin and Danny had traced her to a hotel room tucked away on the outskirts of the city. She had been hanging by the shower rod, dead for two days. There were no signs of foul play. There was also the absence of a suicide note, presumably because she believed that no one would even notice her absence.  
  
The case had been especially difficult for Samantha, because she fit the basic profile of this woman. No immediate communications with her family, no real friends, and no real purpose outside of work; all of the things that drove Olivia Harrison to suicide. She had been alone her entire life. Lately, being alone had become much of Samantha's focus. She despised self-pity, but she couldn't help but think that this was the same lonely life that she was meant to lead, and nothing could have upset her more.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Martin had been unsure of how to handle the cold shoulder from Samantha in the beginning, but eventually he had grown to accept it. He had known that Samantha didn't hold the same feelings for him that he felt for her, but her attitude was still unexpected.  
  
They were cordial when with the team, but they had discontinued their precious tradition of going for drinks occasionally after work. Instead they would work in silence, backs to each other and eyes focused on their work.  
  
He should have known better. He should have known when Samantha first invited him to stay that she was in a terrible place, and he should have passed on the opportunity. It had ruined everything. With the way it was before, they had been friends, but now they were barely talking.  
  
~**~**~  
  
The team was sitting around the table, bringing the Olivia Harrison case to a close. Martin and Vivian were on one side, and Samantha and Danny occupied the opposite. Jack was congratulating them on a job well done, despite the dismal outcome. He ceremonially pulled the picture of Olivia from the whiteboard and sat down at the table.  
  
Regardless of the case at hand, emotions were elevated because of the impending office get-together.  
  
Before Jack dismissed the team, he brought a slender brunette woman over to the table. She was in a gray business suit, hair pulled into a sleek and professional ponytail, and black heels. Jack put an arm around her shoulders and introduced her.  
  
"Everyone, this is Tasha Lucas. She will be joining the team until her transfer to Los Angeles in April."  
  
He then went around the table introducing them.  
  
Despite her best efforts, Samantha couldn't ignore the appreciative exchange between Tasha and Martin. And to make matters worse, Tasha's first words were sarcastic.  
  
"Wow, a Barbie doll and some token minorities..I should fit riiiiiiight in."  
  
Vivian scoffed at the remark and stood up, grudgingly offering a welcome.  
  
Samantha, offended by the 'Barbie' reference, simply stood and walked away.  
  
As they left the table, they exchanged disgusted glances.  
  
"This should be a real treat," Vivian muttered, and Samantha let out a short laugh.  
  
"No kidding," Samantha mumbled under her breath as she turned to watch Martin and Tasha, whose hands were still locked in a welcoming handshake.  
  
~**~**~  
  
The party was in full swing. Glasses of fruit punch were plenty, and there was an entire table along the wall reserved for desserts. Coworkers were dancing with each other, talking in various sections of the room, and altogether enjoying themselves.  
  
Jack and Vivian were leaning against a desk laughing at a joke that Danny had just told, and Martin and Tasha were standing on the modified dance floor talking loudly and holding glasses of punch. Samantha feigned interest in the increasingly boring conversation of a handsome aide from upstairs.  
  
Disposable cameras were floating around the room, and flashes were popping every few minutes. They took pictures of every team at the Christmas party, often posting them in plain view in an effort to remind members of the good times.  
  
Samantha looked up just in time to see Jack waving her over to where the rest of them had already gathered. She quickly and thankfully excused herself from conversation and walked over to the group.  
  
Jack handed Tasha the camera, indicating for her to take the picture.  
  
"No offense, Tasha, but you'll be gone before the next party anyway," Jack teased.  
  
Tasha stood a few feet away, ready to snap the picture.  
  
"Sam, I need you to move in closer to Martin or you won't be in the picture," Tasha said as she waved her left hand for emphasis.  
  
"Thanks, but it's 'Samantha'. No one calls me 'Sam'", she said icily.  
  
Martin glanced over at her with a smile. He remembered a time when he was on the receiving end of the exact same rebuke. She was angry with him at the time, and he made no mistake about her tone of voice this time as well. There was no love lost between Samantha and Tasha.  
  
Samantha inched closer to Martin, and he rested his arm over her shoulders. She was overly conscious of the warmth of his body so close to hers, but moved closer to wrap her arms around his waist. 'For the sake of the picture,' she thought, trying to rationalize her desire to be near him.  
  
Martin was a bit taken aback by the sudden show of affection, especially after weeks of avoidance. But he wasn't about to complain.  
  
Danny was next to Martin on the left, draping one arm over him and the other over Jack. Because she was so small, Vivian was squeezed tightly in between Jack and Danny with one arm around each waist. All had wide smiles on their faces, leaning in even closer for the picture. It was a beautiful moment, and in that instant they were like a family.  
  
Tasha snapped the picture, and the flash momentarily blinded them. She handed the camera to Martin, who slipped it in his pocket. Everyone went back to talking while Samantha went for a refill on her punch.  
  
Danny and Vivian stood back for a while talking about Reggie and other non- work related subjects. Danny suddenly leaned in to whisper something to Vivian.  
  
"So, Viv, what do you make of this Samantha/Martin situation?" he inquired.  
  
Vivian let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I thought I was the only one that seemed to notice this bizarre behavior."  
  
They spent the next fifteen minutes gossiping like high schoolers and comparing notes. They also spent that time watching the individuals in question. Tasha was still attached to Martin at the hip, and they were talking intimately on the corner of the makeshift dance floor. Every few minutes Martin would raise his head and scan the room until he found the blonde he was looking for. Then he would go back to his conversation.  
  
Samantha, on the other hand, would keep Martin within easy eyesight at all times, glancing at him often. She too would then go back to her conversation.  
  
"How interesting," Vivian mused as she looked at Danny.  
  
"Interesting indeed," Danny winked and smiled.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Much later in the night, the party had started to wind down. Several other agents were still socializing at the dessert table, but Jack and Vivian had left a while ago to get back to their families. Danny was busy flirting with an exotic beauty in the corner. Martin was still engaged in an animated conversation with Tasha, much to the disgust of Samantha.  
  
Samantha couldn't help but watch the two of them all night. The more she watched, the angrier she became. She was angry with herself for so totally misjudging Martin's interest in her, mad at Tasha for being such a flirt, and irritated at Martin for paying so much attention to Tasha. Samantha never knew that this jealous side of her existed, and she was not happy with it.  
  
She watched as Martin and Tasha turned and began walking toward the exit. Martin had his hand on her back, leading her.  
  
Samantha angrily threw her plastic punch cup into the garbage closest to her and grabbed her jacket. He was going to sleep with her tonight, she knew it. And it was all because she was playing too hard to get, not breaking down the emotional walls that separated them fast enough.  
  
She threw on her jacket and left the federal building, stopping at a liquor store on her way home.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Martin had taken Tasha home much earlier and was now sitting in his living room relaxing in his boxers and t-shirt. He was just about to open up a TV dinner on his couch when he heard a knock at the door. He put the plastic plate on the end table and wiped his hands on his shirt before going to open it.  
  
He half expected to see Tasha waiting at the door. Of course he didn't want it to be her, he was not interested in the least. But after her blatantly flirtatious attitude the whole night, he would not have been surprised.  
  
Instead, Martin opened his door to a very beautiful..and very drunk..Agent Samantha Spade.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Ok, I'll be the first to admit that it wasn't the best chapter in the world, but hang with me, I'm just getting to the really good stuff..I think!  
  
Review review review, or I have no reason to post the next chapter!!!! 


	5. Drunk

Ok, first of all, this is very out of character for me. Two updates in two days. I think it's because I have watched every episode of season 1 in these past few days, and I have WaT on the brain literally every waking moment. And seriously, how amazing are the actors!? I just love them.  
  
Second, to all that have reviewed that last chapter, I just love you. Lia, thanks for the well wishes on grad school! I definitely needed it. AndreaB, Clo, liz, SunReyes, blue7, vero, and everyone else..seriously, you guys made my day with your reviews.  
  
Third, I must make a note that all the misspellings when Samantha is drunk are my painfully pitiful attempt at mimicking drunken slurring. I think I worked myself into a hole with the drunken Samantha thing, because I'm not really sure how to handle her. If you don't understand it, don't worry, I'm sure no one else does either!  
  
Fourth, the ever-so-obvious DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, and seriously, if you have to be told, then there are some bigger problems.  
  
I apologize for the overly long opening..and now on with the show:  
  
~**~**~  
  
"Look, Agent FITZGERALD," Samantha slurred, emphasizing the 'Fitzgerald' for no real reason. "I've somethin to say to that lil flirt, Tasha. Where is she?!"  
  
During the course of this question, she used her right arm to wildly fling the door wide open, invited herself into Martin's apartment. On her way in she tripped over the threshold and virtually fell into his arms.  
  
Martin reached out quickly to catch her as she began her downward descent, and instead of a 'thank you', he received a slap on the arm for his efforts.  
  
"Get your hands off, Marty, I'm on a mission here," Samantha garbled as she pushed Martin away and proceeded to find the bedroom. "Where is the ugly tramp?"  
  
Up until this point, Martin had been too stunned and amused to speak. He simply crossed his arms firmly over his chest and smiled as he watched her stumble from room to room.  
  
"Tasha? Why are you looking for Tasha in MY apartment?" he questioned Samantha.  
  
Unfortunately, either Samantha did not hear his inquiry, or didn't care, because she continued to search his apartment.  
  
"Samantha. Hey, Samantha. SAM!"  
  
Hearing the despised shortened form of her name, Samantha whirled around to admonish him.  
  
"Do NOT call me Sa....oh God, Martin, your apartment's moving. I mean reeeeally seriously spinning...in big circles right around me. You check with the building guy for me 'bout that..." she faded as she faltered forward.  
  
Martin rushed forward to steady her again. The moment his hands touched her shoulders, Samantha's back stiffened and she looked directly at him with bleary eyes.  
  
"Hooome for me to go time," she mumbled incoherently to him.  
  
Martin had to think for a minute before he finally understood what she meant.  
  
"Ohhh I don't think so missy. You cannot go home in this shape. We've made the streets of New York safer, but they're not THAT safe," Martin joked.  
  
Martin put one arm behind her back, and the other he used to sweep her legs out from under her, effectively picking her up into his capable arms. This time there were no complaints, and Samantha simply wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder.  
  
"You have the most comforfatable furnture in the woooorld," Samantha muttered as she made herself at home in Martin's arms.  
  
Martin carried her to his bedroom and placed her on top of the comforter. With great effort he removed her overcoat and threw it on the bed next to her. She was laying on her right side, her legs curled up close to her. Martin removed her shoes and placed them next to the bed. He then went to the closet, pulling out an extra blanket and unfolded it over her.  
  
Samantha was still mumbling incoherent sentences, but her eyes were closed and she had relaxed her head onto the pillow.  
  
Martin tucked Samantha's arms under the blanket, and pulled it further up until it rested under her chin. He knelt down next to the bed and watched her for a minute. She was quiet, and her breathing was deep and regular. He reached his hand up to sweep a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear. His hand lingered, and he delicately brushed his fingertips against her cheek. Then, on impulse, he bent his head forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead.  
  
Samantha stirred slightly and whispered something Martin wished he hadn't heard.  
  
"Mmm, Jack, feels good...."  
  
Martin's hand recoiled like he had been burned with a hot coal. He stood up quickly and left her in the room, closing the door before he heard Samantha's last utterance of the night.  
  
"Jack, you have to stop....there's someone else...."  
  
~**~**~  
  
Martin returned to his living room, picking up the now cold TV dinner. He walked into the kitchen and put the dinner into the microwave to reheat it.  
  
He was quite unsure of what to think of the events that had just conspired. He had so many questions. Why did Samantha come to his apartment? Why did she think Tasha would be here? Why was she so...intoxicated?  
  
He had been extremely amused at her inebriated antics. He had never seen Samantha Spade out of control of her emotions or actions, and although he had found it comical, he was still concerned about the reasons behind it. He was also angry about Samantha's sleepy whispering to Jack. Martin knew he had no claim on Samantha, but then again, he was the king of wishful thinking.  
  
Martin had known about Jack's affair with Samantha. He had noticed the stolen glances and discreet touches that passed between them. His instincts were confirmed when he overheard the conversation between Jack and Van Doren concerning his handling of the hostage situation with Barry Mashburn.  
  
At the time, Martin had wondered how Jack managed to land a woman like Samantha. Brazen and beautiful, she was the kind of woman that most men would give their right arm to be with.  
  
After Jack traded his spot for hers in the bookstore, Martin realized Jack truly cared about her. But when he moved back in with his wife a few days later, Martin knew that their relationship was over. In truth, it had been over for a long time, and it took a little while longer for Samantha to completely let go.  
  
Martin knew Samantha was never in love with Jack, but she loved the feeling of being wanted.  
  
Every day Martin visited Samantha in the hospital after work. She was usually in good spirits and seemed to be recovering adequately. That is where they really developed a fondness for each other. Before this they had only been coworkers, but now they were friends. Martin would keep Samantha in the loop on what was happening in the office, keeping her up to date on Vivian's struggles with Reggie and Danny's recent romantic escapades. He also brought her contraband: chocolate chip cookie dough, her favorite Ben and Jerry's ice cream.  
  
After Samantha's release from the hospital and subsequent recovery, they managed to continue their friendship over drinks once a week, which had been a ritual until lately. Martin missed it more than he would ever admit to her, but he assumed that it was out of his control.  
  
The loud beeping of the microwave jolted him out of his reflective state, and he shook the thoughts out of his mind.  
  
Martin pulled the freshly reheated dinner out of the microwave and traveled back to the couch where he had started the night. He poked at the meaty mound that resembled chicken, but his appetite had left him. He wasn't quite sure how he had survived on these substandard meals since he entered the FBI. But when you were needed on a moment's notice, there really wasn't much time for anything more.  
  
He stretched out lengthwise on the couch and pulled a thin blanket over his frame. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, trying to get the images of Samantha out of his mind.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Samantha awoke to the bright sunlight streaming through the windows above the bed, and the sound of a shower running in the background. For the life of her she couldn't remember where she was, or worse, what she had done the night before.  
  
She sat up with a start and immediately regretted it. Her head was pounding, and it got worse with every heartbeat. She rubbed her temples with her fingers in a failed attempt to stop the pain. Her eyes finally adjusted to the light, allowing her to make sense of her surroundings.  
  
On the opposite wall there was a poster of a snowboarder at the moment he went catapulting over a snow covered cliff. The caption read "LIVE DANGEROUSLY". 'Nice,' she thought, 'I'm in the custody of a madman.'  
  
Further exploration of the room revealed that it was cluttered with picture frames, all carrying the same individual: Martin. She picked up the frame closest to her and studied it. A much younger Martin was in the middle surrounded by a group of college guys, all with tousled hair and shirts, raising beer mugs to the camera. Behind them was a bright red flag with the Greek symbols for Phi Kappa Psi. 'Of course,' Samantha thought, typical fraternity brothers.' She had never quite thought of Martin as the type to be in a fraternity.  
  
She put the frame back and peeled back the blanket that was covering her lower body. She was still wearing her clothes from the party yesterday, except they were now wrinkled and carried the strong stench of Jack Daniels. "Smooth, Sam, real smooth," she whispered to herself.  
  
She got out of bed and found her way to the kitchen. There was a coffee pot on the counter by the sink. She made herself at home and opened cabinet doors until she found the coffee and filters. Samantha was sure Martin wouldn't mind. Even if he did, she didn't really care. She felt like she was dying, and some freshly brewed coffee was just the thing she needed.  
  
After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened, revealing a newly showered Martin. He was wearing a thin white tank top, along with medical scrubs as pants. The royal blue towel was rolled up and wrapped around his shoulders, and his hair was still soaking wet.  
  
Samantha had to take a second look. Moisture had caused his tank top to adhere to his body, outlining his already defined musculature. He was gripping the towel that was draped around his neck, and his biceps were bulged into their full glory. Body fat? Zero. Martin's body was in prime physical shape. Samantha caught herself staring.  
  
Martin looked in the bedroom before he noticed Samantha sitting at the otherwise empty kitchen table.  
  
"Ha! Drinky McHungover finally decided to grace the world with her presence, huh?" Martin joked.  
  
"Oh Martin, for the love of GOD please keep your voice down," Samantha laughed as she covered her face with her hands.  
  
Martin poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the opposite side of the table.  
  
"Martin, whatever I did...or said....last night, I apologize profusely. I have no idea what I was doing, or what I was thinking when I came here," Samantha stated.  
  
"You were looking for Tasha," Martin reminded her, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
Samantha groaned and put her head on the table, covering it with her hands.  
  
"What the hell was I thinking?" she scoffed at her actions.  
  
"Well I for one have no idea, but why did you think she was going to be HERE?"  
  
Samantha looked up and took a moment to compose herself, but an embarrassed flush crept onto her cheeks. She couldn't very well tell him the truth....but she did anyway.  
  
"I thought you were sleeping together," she stated bluntly.  
  
Martin jerked his head up from the coffee he was sipping and looked directly at her.  
  
"And you think that's the kind of guy I am? Sleeping with a woman less than 12 hours after we first met?" Martin asked accusingly.  
  
Samantha's jaw dropped and her brow furrowed slightly at the sudden change in Martin's attitude.  
  
"And so what if I had? What business of that is yours?" he continued, his voice gaining volume. "We haven't so much as said 'hello' to each other in the past few weeks, and you choose NOW to become interested?"  
  
"Martin, I..." Samantha started to apologize.  
  
"Look, I have to get ready for a family engagement, and you should probably get back to your apartment," he said as he stared evenly at her.  
  
Samantha broke the gaze and set her coffee cup on the table with a little more force than was necessary, splashing hot coffee onto the table. She stood up without a word and retrieved her jacket and shoes from the bedroom.  
  
As she was about to open the door, Martin darted over and reached for her elbow, turning her around.  
  
"Ok, I'm sorry. I had no right to say that. Hey, this family gathering will be over around 4, but I think we have some things to talk about. Do you have any plans in the evening?" Martin questioned more gently, a conciliatory look on his face.  
  
Samantha shook her head, a little uncertain of how her voice would hold up after his recent reprimand.  
  
"How about if I swing by at 6 and we get a quick bite to eat at the restaurant on the corner?"  
  
Samantha nodded, making a conscious effort to smile. She was failing miserably.  
  
"Ok," was Martin's simple response.  
  
He released her elbow and let her leave, closing the door behind her. The instant she was gone, he hung his head in disgust at his own behavior. This dinner would have to be good if he had any chance of redeeming himself.  
  
~**~**~  
  
Samantha wasn't sure if it was the hangover or the verbal lashing she just received, but the moment she was within the safety of her own apartment, she leaned against the door and burst into tears.  
  
~**~**~  
  
I love every one of you that has reviewed. I know this has veered away from how the characters would actually act, but I'm not that good. This is just my little WaT fantasy world! Review review review! Even if you don't like it, I just love hearing from everyone! 


End file.
